Brush
by QuietRaine
Summary: An accident on an alien planet leads to unexpected consequences for Archer and Tucker. Slash. My response to the 2012 Valentine's Day Playlist Challenge at The Delphic Expanse.
1. Part One

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em. I just play with 'em.

_Where the heck am I?_

That was the first question that sprang into Trip's mind as he fought through layers of unconsciousness. He wondered if he was lying on his bunk in _Enterprise_, but the thought was soon rejected. While his bed may be hard, it didn't quite feel like a bed of rocks – the kind digging into his back. It also felt like someone had dropped a large rock on his chest. When he managed to open his eyes and peer around, he discovered someone had done just that.

By the light of the lamp still strapped to his forehead, he stared at the rock for a long minute and struggled to remember how he'd gotten into this predicament. Dust filled the air and his lungs, and a deep cough ripped through his already aching chest. He swore under his breath, shoved the offending rock off, and then slowly and painfully pushed himself into a sitting position.

The sight of the debris-strewn cavern brought his memories to the surface. There had been a cave-in. The day before, they had discovered an uninhabited Minshara-class planet littered with mountain ranges and deep caves. He and the captain had decided to spend a bit of leisure time exploring the caves. Trip had reached for an outcropping that was looser than he had expected and the ceiling had fallen down on the two of them.

_The captain!_ Frantic, Trip began a hurried search of the cave until he found Jon lying just a few meters away, sprawled on his stomach on the ground. He dusted the debris off of the man's back, and rested a fingertip on the side of his neck. Relief flooded through him when he found a pulse. It was a little rapid, but steady.

Both of them were a little worse for the wear, but alive. _So we need to figure a way out of here,_ Trip thought to himself. He patted his own pockets and felt a wave of triumph when he located his communicator in his breast pocket. His jubilation faded when he pulled it out and discovered a rock had landed on the communicator. Dejected, he stared at the pulverized unit and sighed. _Well, shit._

He pursed his lips and gazed speculatively at his companion. More than likely, the captain's communicator was in his front pocket. Trip contemplated the situation for several minutes before reaching over and poking Jon in the side. He was rewarded with a weak groan. He exhaled and dropped his head. If he wanted the communicator, he was going to have to dig it out.

Taking care to be gentle and not hurt Jon any more than he already had, Trip rolled him over. He then took a deep breath, steeled his nerve, and slipped his hand into the pocket. It was difficult to see in the dim light of his head lamp. Licking his lips, he reached deep inside and felt around. He frowned when his hand brushed against something through the fabric. Trip's eyes widened and heat rushed to his cheeks when he realized what it was.

"Trip?" Jon's groggy voice reached his ear. "The hell are you doing?"

The commander quickly withdrew his hand. "Lookin' for your communicator," he explained. "Mine was busted."

Jon started to sit up, groaned, and stretched back out. Closing his eyes, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the device. "Here." He handed it to Trip as the ghost of a smile turned up the corners of his lips. "No need to get fresh."

Trip's cheeks turned an even brighter red as he flipped open the comm. "Tucker to _Enterprise_." Silence filled the cavern for several heartbeats as he waited for a response. "_Enterprise_, come in." He tried several more times before he dragged his fingers through his hair and glanced down at the captain. "Ore deposits in the mountains must be interferin' with our signal."

"So we're stuck until they come looking for us." Again Jon tried to push himself into an upright position.

"Take it easy, Cap'n." Trip reached to help him, and settled him against a nearby rock. His eyes skimmed over his friend, brow furrowed with worry. "How bad?"

"My head's killing me, and I think my leg is broken," Jon admitted as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. "Other than that, just a few bumps and bruises. You?"

"I think I have a few busted ribs. But I'm all right." He glanced around, resting his hands on his thighs. "We need to find one of our packs. If we're gonna be down here a while, we're gonna need some supplies."

"I can help. Give me a minute." Jon tried to push to his feet, but cried out the moment he put weight on his injured leg. Panting, he leaned forward to catch his breath.

Trip chuckled and gently pushed him back down. "No offense, Cap'n, but I don't think you can. Just sit tight. I'll take a look."

It took him a little while, but eventually he did locate his backpack under a pile of rubble nearby. Dusting it off, he rifled through it until he located a bottle of water. He then crouched next to the captain and offered it to him.

"Thanks." Jon took a long sip and then passed it back. Sighing, he leaned his head back against the rock behind him. "They probably don't even know we're in trouble yet."

"When we're thirty seconds late checkin' in, T'Pol will start lookin' for us," Trip replied with false cheer. He took a long swig of the water. "Meantime, we can always play Geography." A teasing gleam flashed through his eyes.

The captain chuckled weakly. "I think we can come up with something more entertaining this time."

Trip stared intently at the medical tricorder he had retrieved from the pack, his mind fighting desperately to remember how to use it. Sweat beaded on his forehead as his cheeks again grew warm. Try as he might to focus on the task at hand, the captain's words tumbled around in his head along with the memory of the accidental brush of a hand a few minutes before. _Stop it, Tucker. Focus._

"You okay, Trip?"

His gaze snapped up from the tricorder. "Y-Yeah. Sure. I'm fine. Never better!" He coughed and began a businesslike evaluation of the captain. "You have a concussion and, just like you thought, a broken leg." Reaching back into his pack, Trip pulled a hypospray from the emergency first aid kit. The captain turned his head and allowed Trip to press it to the side of his neck, injecting him with a mild painkiller.

"Great." Jon sighed and leaned back. "So I'm stuck until T'Pol gets around to rescuing us."

For hours they talked about subjects of varying consequence, everything from warp theory to football. As time passed, Trip's concern for Jon started growing. He was clearly in a great deal of pain despite the analgesic, and needed proper medical attention.

"How long past check-in are we?" Jon asked as he accepted another drink of their nearly-depleted water supply.

"Four hours." Trip heaved a heavy sigh and glanced over him, worry etched in his face.

"That's a little longer than thirty seconds."

"If the mountains are interferin' with our communicators, they probably can't get the transporters to work, either." He glanced at the ceiling, thoughtful. "Though if they reconfigure the buffers…"

"You call right up there and tell them that," Jon said with a grin. He closed his eyes and sobered. "Trip, what if they don't find us in time?"

"They will." The commander's tone was confident. "T'Pol is damned stubborn, and you know Malcolm won't just sit around with his thumb up his ass." He chuckled. "Right now he's probably cursing us both for ignorin' protocol and puttin' our lives in danger."

Jon chuckled. "You're probably right." In the pale light of their lamps, he gazed thoughtfully at the cave ceiling. "If I'm going to be stuck in a cave on some alien planet, I'm glad it's with you."

"Couldn't handle T'Pol's Vulcan logic in a space this tight for so long?" Trip's soft chuckle filled the cave.

"No, it's just-" Jon cut himself off. "Oh, never mind." He slouched against the rock and rolled as far in the other direction as he could.

Trip paused, staring at the captain's back for a long time. "Wait, do you mean-?"

"Forget about it, Trip."

Silence hung heavy between them as Trip considered the captain's declaration. Could he mean-? He bit his lip as he considered the implications. The two of them had been friends for years. Because Jon was his best friend, Trip had never allowed himself to explore or even acknowledge the attraction he occasionally felt. It wouldn't be right, and besides Jon was mostly into women. Right?

Well, maybe not.

Trip surprised them both when he spoke. "Hell, Jon. It's not like it's never crossed my mind."

The captain swiftly sat up and then winced. "Wh-what?" he asked, resting a hand on his forehead.

"Whoa, whoa," Trip said, sliding next to Jon and catching him. "Take it easy." He hesitated, and then carefully pulled Jon against him. "I've thought about it." The commander dared a quick glance down at Jon. "That is… If you mean…"

"I did." Jon flushed. His brow furrowed. "But I thought you were most definitely heterosexual."

A slight grin passed Trip's lips as he shrugged. "I'd call it 'hetero-flexible.'"

Jon laughed and then grimaced. "Why haven't you said something before?"

"Probably for the same reasons you haven't." Trip shifted to pull Jon closer. It was almost impossible to make them both more comfortable between his ribs and Jon's leg. "Fear of rejection. The whole fraternization policy Starfleet has in place." His lips twitched with amusement. "And I was pretty sure you were fond of the ladies. Just when you think you know a guy, he propositions you in a cave."

"I have great timing. And perfect choice of location." Jon furrowed his brow, pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, and sank against Trip. After only the briefest of hesitation, he rested his forehead against the younger man's shoulder, clenching his fist and groaning.

"Breathe," Trip said. He ignored the singing pain in his ribcage and instead moved a hand up to Jon's back and began rubbing in soothing circles. "Give it a minute. It'll pass."

"How is it you're so calm through all this?" Jon gazed up at him once the worst was over.

"I'm a damned good actor. The truth is, I'm terrified. We're in an unexplored cave on an alien planet a few dozen light-years from home. We have several tons of rock between us and our crew, and no way to communicate with anyone. You need Phlox, and I'm not doing so hot myself." He sighed and looked up at the rocks surrounding them. "And though I haven't mentioned it yet, I'm pretty sure the air in here won't last forever. I'm just praying T'Pol and the rest of the crew find a way to get us out of here before it runs out."

Trip turned his gaze back down to Jon. "But you're in far worse shape than I am, so I figured one of us should be the strong optimist. Might as well be me." His expression softened. "Besides, you're the captain. You're the one to carry the weight of our more serious predicaments on your shoulders. I thought I'd give you a break for once."

Jon buried a smile in Trip's shoulder. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

A companionable silence fell over them. "Just in case T'Pol doesn't come through in time," Jon spoke up, sounding a bit shy, "there's something I've always wanted to do."

"What's that?"

"This." In one swift motion, he sat up and turned, capturing Trip's lips with his own.

Trip gasped, startled by the sudden and unexpected kiss. But he didn't resist. Instead, he melted under the older man's touch, sliding his arms around Jon to pull him in closer. Warmth began to build deep in Trip's stomach and spread through is body until it was like liquid fire pounding through his veins. As the kiss lengthened, his hands slid back around and up Jon's chest, fingers tangling in the soft dark hair.

When they broke apart, Trip could only stare into Jon's green eyes, stunned. "Damn," was all he could manage to murmur.

"I-" Jon began. "Yeah."

"That-" Trip fought for control, acutely and painfully aware of the effect the intense kiss was having on his body. "Holy Hannah."

Jon smiled. "That was pretty-" He cut himself off and groaned, once again resting his forehead on Trip's shoulder.

"Okay, enough of that." Trip's tone was firm but gentle. He mentally scolded his body into submission and settled Jon into a more comfortable position. Once Jon was resting against him, he reached a hand up and smoothed the dark hair off of his forehead. "Right now, shut your eyes." Trip pressed his lips to Jon's temple. "Think about someplace relaxing and peaceful. A place you can rest."

He closed his eyes. "My dad had this cabin in New York," he murmured. "He used to take Mom and me there every winter."

Over the course of the next hour, Jon told Trip stories of childhood adventures at the cabin. Trip listened to tales of snow forts and snowball fights with his father as his voice grew more and more groggy.

"Come on, Jon." Trip jostled him. "Stay with me."

"Mmmpph." He protested, nuzzling Trip's shoulder. "Now I know how you felt in the desert."

"You're a little more coherent than I was." Trip shifted him, struggling to keep him awake. "You haven't compared the warp engine to a chicken."

Jon grimaced. "No, no food."

"Nauseous?"

The captain nodded.

"It's the concussion." Trip's brow furrowed with worry as he allowed Jon to settle against him. He cast a pleading glance at the ceiling as he kissed Jon's forehead. "Before we know it, you'll be back on the ship and Phlox will be fussin' over you."

Jon snorted. "Phlox doesn't fuss."

A wave of panic rose up within the commander as he heard the drowsy tone in Jon's voice. "Maybe not, but I do. Now, Jonathan Archer, I need you to look at me, focus, and stay with me."

Slowly, he blinked up at Trip. "Is that an order?"

"Yes," he replied, running a finger along Jon's cheek.

"You can't order me around," Jon protested. "I'm the captain."

"Then I'm relievin' you of duty." Trip shook him carefully by the shoulders when his eyes started to drift closed. "Jon, please…"

The fear in his voice snapped Jon awake. "I'm trying, Trip." He trembled as he took a deep breath. "I'm trying."

"When was the first time you thought you were attracted to me?" Trip blurted. He was fighting for anything to keep the captain conscious, so maybe surprise would work.

It did. "What?" Jon blinked as if he were struggling to focus on Trip's face.

"The first time you were attracted to me. When was it?"

A faint smile pulled at Jon's lips. "When you said, 'There's nothin' wrong with that engine.'"

Trip glanced down at him with wide eyes. "Seriously?"

By now Jon was grinning as he nodded against Trip's shoulder. "You were so young. Couldn't have been much more than twenty-"

"I was twenty-two," Trip interrupted with a smile.

"-And so impertinent. You didn't care that you were arguing with a Commodore, a Commander, and members of the Vulcan Council. You knew you were right, and you were going to make sure they knew it."

"You bought me a drink that night," Trip remembered, resting a cheek against Jon's forehead.

He nodded. "And you chatted Ruby up."

"She was a good distraction." A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "I was tryin' not to think about you."

"Should have told me." Jon paused and grimaced. "We wouldn't have wasted eight years."

Trip held him tighter. "I was intimidated. There I was, a cocky kid out of Florida who had never spent a day in college sittin' there sharin' drinks with Henry Archer's son. I was too afraid of sayin' somethin' stupid to let my mind go wanderin' too far in that direction."

The captain peered up at him. "Over the years, I've thought you were brilliant, funny, exasperating, frustrating, arrogant, kind, caring, and gutsy. But never have I thought you were stupid."

Touched, Trip cupped his cheek. "Thanks." Tenderly, he leaned down and captured Jon's lips with his own.

When they parted, Jon's eyes remained closed. "I'll compliment you again if you keep doing that."

"All you have to do is ask." Again he kissed Jon, pulling him tighter against the protests of his aching ribs.

Eventually Trip released the captain, who rested his cheek against Trip's chest. "I'm glad you said somethin'. I'm not sure I would've ever had the guts. I know it seems like we've wasted eight years, but maybe this is just the right time, you know?"

Silence.

"Jon?" Gently he shook him, fear rising in the back of his throat. "Jon?"

There was no response. Jon's eyes had drifted shut as he'd slipped into unconsciousness. Trip tried several times to bring him back around, with no success. The commander fumbled with his free hand until he found the communicator Jon had given him and flipped it open.

"Tucker to _Enterprise_. Please come in, _Enterprise_."

The only answer was static.

Trip cursed and threw the communicator on the ground in frustration. They were stuck. Until T'Pol and Malcolm found them, there wasn't a damned thing he could do.

Trip watched Jon for a long time, his finger trailing along his cheek. The handsome face contorted in pain and then relaxed again. "Come on, T'Pol," Trip whispered as he gazed up at the ceiling. "Hurry."


	2. Part Two

"Take it easy, Commander." The cheerful Denobulan voice permeated Trip's mind as his eyes drifted open. He squinted against the bright, artificial light and peered up into Phlox's smiling face. "You've been through quite an ordeal."

Trip sat up, glancing around as he tried to shove aside the disorientation. "How'd I get here?"

"Commander Reed and his team were able to retrieve you and the captain. T'Pol became concerned when the two of you didn't report in as you should have." The doctor scrutinized readings on his medical tricorder.

"I figured she would." Trip ran a hand over his face, and then glanced sharply at Phlox as two words penetrated the fog over his brain. _The captain!_ "Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine, Commander." A reassuring smile turned up the corners of Phlox's lips. "He's sleeping right over there. He has a serious concussion and a broken tibia, but I anticipate a quick recovery." The grin became bemused. "That is, if he will listen to my advice and stay off his leg until it has healed."

Trip snorted. "Good luck with that." His gaze drifted over to the biobed nearby where Jon was sleeping. His eyes locked onto the captain's lips and memories of their kiss flashed through his mind. He shifted, cleared dust from his throat and turned back to Phlox. "Am I okay?"

"You have a few broken ribs and various cuts and contusions. You're also a bit dehydrated. I would prefer to keep you overnight for observation." Phlox ignored the grimace that crossed Trip's face. "But you'll be fine, Commander. You should be clear for light duty in a day or two."

"Fine, fine." Trip grumbled and settled back on the biobed. He cast another concerned glance in the captain's direction. "Let me know when he wakes up?"

"Yes, Commander. Now sleep, or I shall have to give you something to make you rest."

Trip sighed as Phlox left the room and slid one hand up to rest under his head. When his ribcage protested, he winced and slid the arm back down. Instead, he laced his fingers on his stomach and gazed at the ceiling.

When he was sure Phlox was clear, he turned his attention once again to the other bed. Jon was peaceful and relaxed, his breathing deep and even. Trip watched him, a tangle of emotions twisting inside. Tenderness. Concern. Confusion. Fear. In the hopeless situation they'd been in on the planet, the two of them had found… love? Something else? He had no idea what had passed between them in that cave. All he knew was Jon had filled his heart with that kiss. Trip had held him close and let himself go, lost in the moment.

Now, hours later, the exhilaration still sang in his body. But now it was interlaced with trepidation and worry that once Jon woke up, it would all be over. And so, he lay on the bed, watched the captain and silently fretted. He willed Jon to wake up and reassure him it all hadn't been a dream.

As if he'd heard Trip's very thoughts, Jon stirred and then startled awake. His eyes flew open and he glanced sharply around the room, before his gaze settled on Trip in the next bed. "Shhh," Trip murmured. "We're safe. Back on_ Enterprise_."

Jon exhaled and nodded. "Good. You okay?"

"Doc says I'll be fine." He reached across the space between the beds and squeezed the captain's hand. "Shut your eyes and get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

Smiling faintly, Jon returned the squeeze and his eyes drifted shut.

* * *

><p>Three days.<p>

For three days Jon had made an art form out of avoiding Trip. When Trip had awakened again in sickbay, the captain had still been sound asleep. Since Trip's injuries were relatively minor, Phlox had released him to his own quarters to rest. He'd been reluctant to leave, but the doctor had assured him he would be the first to know when Jon woke up. True to his word, Phlox had called him the very minute he'd come around. But each and every time Trip had gone by to visit, either Phlox was bustling around so they couldn't have a word in private, or Jon was sleeping. Again.

He'd tried sending Jon a private communiqué, but that had gone unanswered. Earlier in the day he'd gone to sickbay to make one more attempt at conversation, only to discover the captain had been released to his own quarters. Reportedly, he was grumbling about the crutches he would be using for at least the next two weeks.

Trip was in misery. The silence was slowly killing him. And damned if he was going to sit around and wait for Jon to decide to make the next move.

He paced his quarters, gathering his courage. He was well aware his next move might not end well, but he didn't care. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of his room and into the corridor where he marched with purpose to the captain's cabin and rang the bell.

"Come in," said Jon's familiar voice.

Trip set his jaw, punched the button that slid the door open, and stepped inside. "Hey, Cap'n," he greeted. "Thought I'd come see how you were doing…" The commander trailed off and shifted, uncomfortable. It was a lame excuse, and he knew it.

Jon was seated on his bed with his immobilized leg propped up on a pillow and Porthos curled up against his hip. He had a book resting on his lap and his fingers were lazily scratching the beagle between the ears. "I'm okay." He set the book aside and offered a reassuring smile. "I'll be on those damned things for a couple of weeks." With a grimace, he pointed at the crutches propped up against the wall. "That'll make inspecting Engineering a little difficult, so you're off the hook."

"Really won't make much difference." A half-grin tugged at Trip's lips. "I'm harder on 'em than you are."

"There is that."

"I'll let 'em know, though."

An awkward silence fell over the room, and Trip shifted his weight from one foot to the other. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he broke the silence. "So, Cap'n-"

"Trip, I know you didn't come down here to check on me," Jon said softly. "You could have asked Phlox."

"You're right, I didn't." Trip sighed and sat down on the couch to face Jon. "Permission to speak freely?"

He laughed. "Since when do you ask? It's amazing your mouth has allowed you to reach the rank of Commander."

The comment could have hurt, but Trip caught the gentle teasing in Jon's eyes. Instead of getting defensive, his expression melted into a sheepish grin. "Sometimes it amazes me, too." He glanced down at the floor, gathering his thoughts. "I thought we should talk about what happened. On the planet, that is."

"We probably should."

Trip hesitated. "Since we got back, it's felt like… Have you been avoiding me?"

Jon sighed and rested his head back against the pillow behind his back. "Maybe a little." He held up a hand when Trip started to speak. "I needed a chance to think, Trip. Sort out what I was feeling."

"Oh." The younger man dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Trip, don't look so down," Jon chided with a laugh. "I didn't say it was bad. I just-" He cut himself off and leaned forward, a thoughtful look on his face as he pondered the right words.

Annoyed by the disruption, Porthos stood, gave his master a short bark, and then hopped down. Wagging his tail, he jumped up on the couch and rested his chin on Trip's thigh. Wide, brown doggy eyes peered up at Trip, begging for a scratch. The commander chuckled and scratched the dog behind one ear.

"Everything happened so fast in the cave," Jon said, his tone soft. "I didn't have time to process it all. When I got back, it hit me I'd put almost a decade of friendship on the line, and potentially jeopardized our careers. I didn't think about it then, because I was so busted up. So I thought maybe I should give it a thought or two now."

"Actin' without thinkin' has gotten us in heaps of trouble in the past." Trip sat back, his palm still absently stroking Porthos' back. "So what have you been thinkin'?"

"I wouldn't change anything that happened down there. Right or wrong, I meant everything I said down there." A flush heated Jon's cheeks. "And everything I did."

Trip's lips twitched with faint amusement. "Even now?"

"Even now."

Giving Porthos a final pat, the commander slid off of the couch and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Even though you could be court-martialed?"

"We won't get court-martialed. Reprimanded, maybe." Jon's lips curved into a smile. "Besides, I doubt Starfleet would court martial us over a couple of kisses."

"So it was just a couple of kisses between friends?" Trip's eyes searched Jon's.

"No." His expression grew serious. "That's not all it was, Trip."

Indecision registered only a moment on Trip's face before he leaned forward and kissed Jon. The older man moaned when their mouths met, his hands sliding up to cup Trip's cheeks. Slow and hesitant at first, the kiss gradually deepened and heated. Trip's lips became more demanding and he pressed himself against the captain, pinning him to the bed. Hot lava flowed through his veins when he felt Jon's hips lift to press against his.

He jumped back as if he'd been burned when he accidentally jarred Jon's leg and the other man hissed in pain. "Dammit," Trip murmured, chastened. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Jon's teeth were gritted against the pain. He closed his eyes. "We'll have to figure out how to work around that."

"We could always wait-"

Jon silenced his offer with a quick kiss. "We'll figure it out."

"But-"

"Don't." Jon pressed a finger against Trip's lips. "Don't worry about anything tonight. Save it till the morning. We will figure it out." He smiled. "Just like everything else – our relationship, our positions on the ship now, everything – we'll figure it out."

Trip stared down at him until a slow smile spread over his lips. "All right," he agreed. "We'll figure it out."

Their lips met again, confidence growing with each passing minute. Trip's tongue teased Jon's, and he was rewarded by a low moan of pleasure. Good God, he'd never heard a more enticing sound in his life. He pressed his hips more against Jon's and was somewhat startled by just how sensual the feel of the hardened shaft in the captain's pants felt against his. It was unfamiliar, new, and incredibly arousing. He was used to soft feminine curves in his partners, and the hard planes of the very male body under him were foreign.

Foreign, and exciting.

A soft moan escaped Trip's own lips when Jon's hand slid down his back and moved almost hesitantly to his backside. He shivered with delight and lifted his hips, pressing his harder into Jon's grasp in encouragement. He heard a soft chuckle as Jon squeezed and began massaging his ass.

An erotic haze fell over Trip's brain as he kissed Jon more greedily, more demanding. His hand slid under the captain's shirt and began roaming over the hair-dusted skin beneath. He pressed his hips harder against Jon's, shifting so his now-throbbing erection ground against Jon's. The older man gasped against his mouth, his free hand trailing up to tangle in Trip's hair. Instinctively the blond shifted, spreading Jon's legs apart.

"Dammit!" Jon cried, throwing his head back against the pillow. He took a deep breath, fighting against pain. Trip immediately pulled back.

"Sorry, sorry." He rolled over so he was stretched out next to Jon and ran his hand back and forth over the other man's chest to soothe him. When the tension had begun to fade, he spoke. "So, one thing we've figured out is we're gonna have to wait until your leg has recovered before we get into anything too athletic."

Jon nodded, breathless, and cast him an apologetic look. "I think so."

"It's okay," Trip said. "I can wait." His cheeks reddened. "Besides…" He trailed off, hesitating.

"Besides..?"

The commander licked his lips. "Have you ever–with a man, that is–before?"

Without hesitation, Jon shook his head. "No. Have you?"

"Nope." He smiled sheepishly. "That'll be something else we have to figure out." A mischievous grin slid over his face. "Maybe Phlox has some diagrams or pictures we could borrow."

Jon laughed, burying his face in Trip's shoulder. "You go ahead and walk down there and ask him. Make sure you get a video of his response. I'll pay you for it."

"Mmm, tempting." He stared at the ceiling, his expression thoughtful. "It can't be that much different."

"Trip." Jon laughed and shook his head. "Don't over-think it." He sat up and cupped the younger man's cheek. "Sex is mostly instinctual, no matter who you're with. It will be for us too."

A soft smile touched Trip's lips and he leaned over and kissed Jon again, this time lazily. His mouth lingered on the captain's for several minutes before he pulled back and sighed. "It's getting late. I should probably head back to my own bunk."

Jon's arm tightened around his waist. "Stay."

"You sure? Someone might see."

"If they do, we'll deal with it." With some effort, Jon rolled over onto his side and faced Trip. "I have wanted you here, in my bed, for years. Now I have you here, I'm not going to let you go."

Warmth spread over Trip's body. It had nothing to do with embarrassment or arousal and everything to do with the swell of emotion rising in him. "Okay," he managed huskily. "I'll stay." He cleared his throat and sat up. "But lemme get a little more comfortable."

He swung his legs off of the bed, stood, and then paused. _Now?_ he thought. _Now I feel awkward? _His hand hesitated on the zipper of his uniform and he glanced over his shoulder at Jon, sprawled across the bed and gazing up at him expectantly.

And laughing.

"It's not like I've never seen your underwear before," the captain pointed out. "You saved the ship from those big-eared idiots while parading around nearly naked."

"I know!" Trip glanced away, face reddening. "But it's different when you've been making out with the guy you're about to strip in front of."

"Would it help if I turned my back?" Jon's green eyes sparkled up at him.

"Oh for Pete's sake, no." Resolutely, he kicked off his boots and unzipped his uniform, depositing it and the black undershirt on Jon's couch. Cheeks still flaming, he then slipped into bed next to Jon. "Are you done?" he asked, lips twitching with amusement.

"Almost." Jon's shoulders shook with laughter and he buried his face in the pillow.

Trip shook his head and grinned. "Come here." He reached for Jon and pulled him into his arms. "If you're finished, we should get some sleep. We are supposed to be recovering."

He exhaled to calm himself, chuckled one more time, and then kissed Trip. "Sleep, before Phlox has our hides."

After some arranging and rearranging, they found a comfortable position with Jon on his back and Trip curled against him, an arm draped over his stomach. They spoke for a few more minutes, their voices growing more and more drowsy with each passing moments.

"'Night, Jon." Trip sleepily nuzzled his shoulder, eyes already closed.

"Good night, Trip," he whispered back. A content smile turned up his lips as he, too, drifted off to sleep.


End file.
